


May We Stay Lost on Our Way Home

by faicotone



Category: Captain America (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Endgame Fix-It, F/M, M/M, Not Avengers: Endgame (Movie) Compliant, the cap quartet energy is strong in this one
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-25
Updated: 2020-05-25
Packaged: 2021-03-03 04:41:27
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,404
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24369022
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/faicotone/pseuds/faicotone
Summary: Bucky knew.Of course, Bucky knew. Bucky knew him better than anyone, dead or alive. Steve didn't need to say a word. Just the look in his eyes, the set of his shoulder, the way he gripped the suitcase. Bucky could probably see clear as day what he was about to do.------------------The Endgame Fix-it fic that I wanted but never found. So I wrote it.
Relationships: James "Bucky" Barnes & Shuri friendship, James "Bucky" Barnes/Steve Rogers, Natasha Romanov/Sam Wilson, Peggy Carter/Steve Rogers, past Bruce Banner/Natasha Romanov
Comments: 10
Kudos: 132





	May We Stay Lost on Our Way Home

**Author's Note:**

> Unbeta'd because my friend has a life and I only have one(1) friend.
> 
> Polish translation available [here](%E2%80%9D)

It was a day after the service. The sky is still crystal blue, the sun bright. Steve sat down on the raft. Exactly where he sat just days ago, the loss of his best friend for the past nine years still fresh. They were all trying their best to keep going despite the gaping hole in their chest she had left them with. It ached now, like a wound that healed wrong and left a nasty scar.

Now Tony is gone, too. His mind helpfully supplied.

Steve could still see them clear as he could see the cloud reflected in the water. Curse his eidetic memory. He could still hear their voices, felt the touch of their hands. It made him felt hollow inside, like looking down at a phantom limb only to realize it's no longer there.

A cold breeze swept pass him and he could feel a presence sat down by his side.

"This is a beautiful day." whispered the familiar voice. That made Steve look up.

The sight of Thor with his short hair and trimmed beard startled him. He would have thought they were back in Wakanda, fighting a battle they thought they could win, if not for the chubbiness and the black eye patch over his left eye.

Huh. Steve didn't recall Thor sustaining any serious injuries around his eyes. He could have easily missed it in the chaos of the fight, though.

"Yeah, I guess it is." he answered absentmindedly. He must have stared, because Thor immediately gestured to his eye patch

"Oh this is old, from my previous battle with my sister. She stabbed me in the eye; I hit her with a lightning. We both survived but Loki later summoned the wretched giant Surtur upon Asgard to defeat her and destroy the realm in the process so it's all good now. The rabbit got me a prosthetic before we came to Earth and I never took it out."

Steve would never understand the Odinson siblings’ dynamics, but he guessed that's what you get when everyone in the family is essentially immortal.

"But you don't want to wear it anymore?" he ventured. He knew prosthetics, while mostly useful, can represent unpleasant memories for the owner. That sure was the case for Bucky and his left arm.

"I have no use for it anymore."

_Same as Buck's, then._

"I also want to be that person again."

That gave Steve a pause. He turned to look at Thor but the god of thunder continued as if he wasn't there.

"Thor Odinson. God of thunder. King of Asgard.” He snorted, amused by something beyond Steve’s understanding. “There was a period of time after we left Asgard's ruins to travel here, when everything seemed great. I had my friends, my people. I had my brother. I had faith that all would turn out alright----I want to go back to be that person again."

Steve was stunned. Amidst all of their griefs and losses and hopelessness, he never found the chance to reconnect with Thor in the past 5 years. This was the first time he realized how much his friend had lost, even before they fought against Thanos.

In a way, he felt like he should berate himself for it. He spent 5 years trying to help the people, the common folks, to feel useful and not stayed trapped in his own failure. But he never even tried to reach out to his friends, not in the way Natasha did.

She never gave up on them, any of them, even when they had already given up on themselves.

Right now, sitting next to him, he finally understood how much Thor had lost. He could see now, how the mighty, boisterous god of thunder he once knew could succumb to depression and alcoholism so easily.

And he could definitely relate to the desire to go back. In fact it was all he could think about after the dust settled, going back to the greatest what-ifs of his life. Becoming the person he was supposed to be.

Caught up in his semi-formed plan, he was somewhat startled when Thor started speaking again.

"You are lucky, my friend"

Steve grimaced. "Too lucky I'd say. I just turned a hundred and five and I'm still here, healthy as a horse."

Thor shrugged halfheartedly. "Well, you are not exactly mere mortal and a century is but a slip of time for us Asgardians. But that is not what I meant."

He saw in the periphery Thor had turned his head slightly to the right. Steve followed his gaze and landed on Bucky.

He was wearing his black jacket again but he had opted for a pair of blue jeans today. His hair was tied up in a bun, his beard still neatly trimmed after the funeral. Sometime earlier this morning Shuri had sat him down on the front lawn of Tony's cabin, asked him to remove his prosthesis so she could check it over after the battle. At some point Morgan had ventured outside, drawn to them by the "shiny toy" as she put it. Shuri had sat her down on Bucky's lap and they have been playing with the arm ever since. Even as young as she was, they could see the girl had Tony's mind. He hoped it doesn't weigh on her as much as it had for her father.

Suddenly, it seemed the little girl had lost interest in the arm. She dropped the finger she had been playing with and grabbed Bucky's right hand instead. Ten seconds later, Bucky had pulled out another hair band and tied Morgan's hair into a bun not unlike his.

"I'm a princess now!" She exclaimed confidently, to everyone's enthusiastic nods. Steve kind of agreed. She really was their princess now.

After a few minutes, she wiggled down from Bucky's lap and started pulling both him and Shuri towards the trees, talking excitedly about showing them her secret lab. Steve and Thor watched them until they were out of sight.

"I know Loki has been a nuisance for Midgardians from time to time, but I would give anything to have my brother back."

Steve was at a loss for words. How do you give condolence for the death of a super villain that you don't particularly know beyond their world domination attempt? In the end he settled for a simple "I'm sorry for your loss."

Thor smiled appreciatively anyway.

"I have lost him too many times, Steve. I watched him fell off the bifrost and I watched him got impaled on a spear but he always came back. Like the magical being that he is. He promised me we would be reunited and it is hard not to believe him when he had cheated death twice before. I want to have faith that he is still out there somewhere finding his way back to me. Until then, I would search the universe for him."

He tapped his eye patch then. "This would help him recognize me, I think."

The god of thunder finally turned to face him. "You are very lucky to have him back within your grasp, my friend. I envy the way the stars bind your fate together."

He clasped Steve's shoulder and made to get up.

"Why don't you?" He blurted out, half startled by his own voice. He didn't mean to say it out loud but well, he wasn't known for keeping his mouth shut when a sensible person would anyway.

Thor sat back down and raised his brows questioningly.

"Why don't you go back? The time machine. We can use that to go back in time. Become who you were supposed to be. Why don't you?" Steve elaborated. Now that he had asked, he was genuinely curious to know. Was it because Thor hadn’t thought of it before? Or did he have a reason not to?

For a few seconds, Thor was quiet. His body perfectly still, his eye glossed over like he was no longer in that moment.

Then the hand on his shoulder tightened.

"My mother.... Mother once told me, everyone fails who they were supposed to be. One has to become the person they are meant to be instead."

He finished getting up. Towering over Steve with his full height, with the wind blowing softly around them, Thor really did look like the god of olds that he was in that moment.

"She was a very wise lady, you know? The wisest in all of Asgard." He said, with a beaming smile, and finally turned to walk away, leaving Steve with his thoughts.

\----

Bucky knew.

Of course, Bucky knew. Bucky knew him better than anyone, dead or alive. Steve didn't need to say a word. Just the look in his eyes, the set of his shoulder, the way he gripped the suitcase. Bucky could probably see clear as day what he was about to do.

He recited their old good bye, down to the letter. The only difference is that he had no intention of coming back anytime soon.

Bucky knew that, too.

In the end, it was not Bucky's parting words, or the unshed tears in his steel blue eyes, that haunted Steve through the quantum realm. It was his own.

It's gonna be okay, Buck.

Is it?

\----

Steve made his first stop in New York.

The time stone was easy. All he had to do was show up at the address Bruce gave him and knocked. Some wacky magic tricks brought him to what appeared to be a study. The bald sorcerer (or witch? or magician? Steve wasn’t so sure about the distinction.) pulled the stone right out of the case and put it inside a familiar looking necklace. He was promptly warped out when he declined her offer of tea. The whole thing took less than three minutes.

The mind stone, surprisingly enough, was easy as well.

He worried for a second that he wouldn’t be able to return the stone to its timeline in its true form. The scepter they took was destroyed during Thanos’ attack and without Tony, they had no way of creating a fully-functioning replica. When he opened the case, however, some wacky space magic must have been at play because the stone floated up a few inches on its own then grew a scepter identical to Loki’s around it. From there, Steve only had to find a suitable case to put it in, wait in the lobby for Rumlow to show up, mumbled some story about protecting it from Loki, and gave him the case.

It felt wrong, letting Rumlow walk away with one of the most dangerous weapons in the universe, knowing the destruction he would bring. Steve tried to remind himself that it was the only way. The fire burning in his chest begged to differ.

The space stone was a little bit trickier.

Sneaking into S.H.I.E.L.D. was not an easy task, especially when one had the face of a national hero. Miraculously, he managed to get in without a problem by striking up a conversation with some doctor about the Mets on his way down. That rapidly became a problem, however, when said doctor wouldn’t leave and started questioning him about “your research in quantum physics, which surely must be fascinating! Unless Hank Pim was exaggerating when he presented his project at the board meeting”. Steve had to resort to awkwardly asking the man out on a date “to discuss all the delicate aspects of my work, if you know what I mean”. Thankfully, the guy wasn’t a homophobe so he only got an uncomfortable cough and “I better get back to my lab.”, and not a punch in the face.

It had all been for nothing, in the end. Because just a minute after the talkative doctor left, Arnim Zola himself caught Steve red-handed while he was putting the Tesseract back in the safe. In his panic, Steve threw the cube at Zola’s head which subsequently knocked him out. He bolted for the elevator but the sirens started barring almost immediately after and Steve ended up having to time-travel out of there.

His next stop, he decided, was Asgard.

He arrived in an opulent hallway decorated with more gold than the Russian palace and came face to face with a middle-aged woman. She had beautiful, long golden locks and a pair of blue eyes that shined. Something in his brain clicked and he heard himself saying “Oh, you must be Thor’s mom.”

She gave him a radiant smile. “That, I am. And you must be a friend of his from the future. Come, it’s about time for lunch.”

After she made him consume enough food for an army (all the while, delightfully exclaiming that she was surprised a Midgardian can eat almost as much food as her eldest son), Frigga took him to Jane’s chamber and casted a sleeping spell on her. It felt extremely disturbing, stabbing her arm with the little red tube and watching red liquid flowed into her body. When it was done, she guided him out to the balcony and held his hand in hers.

“Thank you.” She said, her eyes so sincere and her voice so heavy with emotion that Steve was lost for words. “For helping my son become who he was meant to be.” She continued, nodding at the hammer tied to his back. Oh, he completely forgot about that.

With a bit of undignified wiggling, Steve got the hammer untied. He needed to return it to its rightful place, of course, but he wasn’t sure where would that be. It felt polite to give it to Frigga, but he wasn’t sure if she could wield it and he didn’t want to risk being offensive if she couldn’t. In the end, he put it down next to his feet.

It would fly off to Thor soon enough, he figured.

Suddenly, the warning bells rang loud and clear through the whole palace. He could hear footfalls of soldiers running around outside. He moved to pick up Mjolnir but Frigga grabbed his hands, her grips tight.

“Go now, Steve Rogers. This is not your battle to fight.”

He looked into her eyes. “Are you gonna be okay?”

She won’t. He knew that now. Thor said his mother was dead when he talked about the Aether. This must have been the battle that killed her.

She let go of his hand and pat his arm gently, a soft smile on her face and resolution in her eyes.

“I am right where I am meant to be.”

The door of the chamber bursting open was the last thing he saw before he fell into the quantum realm.

Returning the power stone felt very anticlimactic after that.

Steve showed up in Morag to find an unconscious Peter Quill lying on the damp dirt. He contemplated his options for a few second before he resolved to dragging the unconscious man to the temple. He put the orb in Quill’s pocket and decided that that was good enough. Even the biggest idiot in the universe would notice a fist-size ball in their front pocket, right? This guy was supposed to be a legendary outlaw, if he was not mistaken.

He didn’t know what to expect when he arrived at Vormir.

Coming face to face with his first enemy certainly wasn’t his No.1 guess. Or No. 100, for that matter.

Red Skull did not seem to recognize him, or if he did, he did not appear to much care. He just welcomed Steve to the land of death with his father’s name and asked him what was his purpose.

“To return the soul stone.” He replied.

“Very well.” was all he said, then he floated to the edge of the cliff and turned back to face Steve. “A soul for a soul, such is the unbreakable exchange. Drop the soul stone into this abyss. And your love once lost, will return once more.”

“I want Natasha. I want to bring her back.” Voice breaking, he clutched the soul stone in his right hand.

“The stone cannot give you what you want. Only what you love.”

The Red Skull gestured for him to step forward. Steve took a step, then another, inhaled slowly and held his breath.

He loved Natasha, goddamnit. He will bring her back.

He loosened his grasp.

When he came to, Steve was lying on his back in shallow water. The sky was crimson above him, reflecting in the water. He felt something, or rather someone, clasping his right hand and he turned to find gold-tipped red hair, sparkling green eyes, and perfectly plucked eyebrows, furrowing.

“Why are you here?”

His eyes watered a little, hearing her voice. He was so very glad that it worked. His love for his wonderful, strong, gorgeous best friend was enough.

“I’m here to return the soul stone.” He answered. He could felt his lips slowly stretching into a grin, he let them.

She opened her mouth like she was about to ask something but hesitated at the last second, like she was too afraid to hear the answer. So he saved her the misery and answered her unasked question.

“It’s over, Nat. We won.” Her grip tightened to the point it hurt his hand a bit, he didn’t let go , though. Nothing in the entire universe could have made him let go of her hand in this moment.

Then she smiled the brightest smile he had ever seen in the last decade and pulled him in to a bone-crushing hug. A lesser man would have whimpered in pain, but Steve was a scientifically enhanced human so he only grunted a little. He put his arms around her and she said softly, almost whisper-like,

“Let’s go home, then.”

And just like that, a shiver ran through his entire body. An echo from a long forgotten dream rang loud and clear in his head.

“The war’s over, Steve. We can go home.”

He could go home now.

He slowly loosened his arms around Natasha.

“Nat.”

“Hmm?......What?” She pulled back, hands still caressing his shoulder gently.

Steve took a deep breath.

“I don’t think I will go back.”

Her hands stilled. Piercing green eyes looked straight into his soul. Whatever she was searching for, she seemed to find it. Natasha pulled him into another tight hug. She straightened up to put her lips on his temple softly and whispered into his hair, “If you are sure”.

They sat together like that, holding each other, until the sky turned a deep navy color and darkness fell around them. For the past 5 years, they were all each other had. Two people with the weight of all they had lost pinning them down, unable to move on or go back to correct mistakes made.

But the fight was finally over. Nat could move on with her life. And Steve, Steve could go back now. He had the mean to do so right around his wrist.

After they found the energy to get back on their feet, they waded through the water until they reached the shore. Once they were on solid ground, he pulled out the device and secured it around her wrist. They set it on their respective destination, triple checked to make sure everything was in place, and looked at each other.

Natasha pulled him into another bone crushing hug.

He could feel wetness on his shoulder. He was pretty sure Natasha could feel it in her hair, too.

"Be happy, Steve." she whispered into his ears. And with a parting kiss to his cheek, they pressed the buttons.

\----

Steve opened his eyes to a murky London street.

The smell of smog is thick in the air, despite the light drizzle. The locals rushed pass in their gray coats and black umbrellas. The moon could not be seen through the looming dark clouds but several lampposts lit the town in a luminescent glow. Slipping quietly into a dark alley, Steve quickly took off the navigator on his wrist and changed into the military uniform he had packed into the suitcase last night, or eighty years from now, depending on how you looked at it.

From there, it was easy to find the right place. No one spared him a second glance. The war was not quite over yet, but it very nearly was. An American officer wandering around the local pubs and bars was nothing out of ordinary.

When he got there, a few seconds passed 8.00. He was surprised to find her already waiting.

Peggy was wearing the same red dress she wore, the night they met after his rescue mission. The same pair of heels and her lips the same shade of brilliant red as always. She was sitting alone at the bar, with a drink in her hand and small pearls of tears rolling down her rosy cheeks. He was mesmerized, but his feet dutifully took him forward.

Suddenly, she turned to look at him, and Steve forgot how to breathe.

Peggy got up from her seat and marched across the room straight for him, the crowd parting around her like obedient subjects. She came to a complete stop a foot away, maintaining eye contact with him the whole time. 

"Sorry I'm late." distantly, he heard himself saying.

She inhaled sharply, then seemed to have composed herself. "You will just have to make it up to me then."

"Of course." Steve found himself smiling. Together, they walked onto the dance floor.

\----

"You are a terrible dancer."

Steve only chuckled in response. They had been dancing for a few songs now, and he had almost stepped on her feet no less than five times already. He put a little distance between them so he could look her in the eyes. "Well, this is my first time properly dancing with a girl."

Peggy raised her eyebrows, a faint hint of a smile on her lips. "Then you should follow my lead, Captain Rogers."

"Gladly." he smiled softly. Peggy tightened her grips and began to steer him to the rhythm of the song. Steve let himself be guided through the steps and found their flow had improved significantly.

After a full song with no near feet stepping experience, Peggy began to relax.

"So what happened?"

He let a few seconds go by, trying to figure out how to start. Finally, he settled with "I survived the crash."

"Yes I deduced." Peggy interrupted impatiently, not tolerating his bullshit like always. Steve loved her. Still, he wasn't sure if telling her about time traveling would be a good idea, so he resolved to telling her the simplified version.

"I ran into some troubles, fought a few bad guys. Eventually found my way back here."

Peggy stared at him. Then she continued to silently lead him through the rest of the song. When it was over, she guided him to an empty spot at the bar and they sat down.

She waved the bartender over. "A glass of martini, single olive, please." then she fixed her gaze on him. Steve could feel his skin prickling under her calculating look. He needed to come up with a period-appropriate credible cover-up, and fast, because Peggy is looking more and more reserved with every second of silence.

"And you, sir?"

Steve was pulled out of his worrying by the bartender's voice, he distractedly replied "Just whiskey is fine." and continue squirming in his seat. The bartender mumbled an "alright", threw away his rag and started making their order.

Once both of them got their drinks in their hands, mumbled thanks to the guy who didn't seem like he could care less, Peggy pursed her lips and put down her glass.

"Why are you here, Steve Rogers?"

Steve took a sip of his whiskey and tried to say with a confident smirk, sweat starting to break out under his clothes. "I promised you a dance, didn't I?"

Peggy took a sip from her own drink as well, and turned her entire body towards him. "Let me rephrase: why are you here and lying to me?"

Steve was at a loss for words. She correctly took that as a sign she was right and continued speaking.

"I know you are Steve. Because I know you. But you have clearly been through more than a plane clash and fighting a few bad guys. There are lines on your face and shadows in your eyes that weren't there when you got on that plane. I refuse to believe a week could take such a toll on you."

Steve half wanted to continue playing dumb, just for the principle. Ultimately he decided against it, he had a feeling she would not hesitate to shoot him if she felt like he was in any way a threat. And he knew she had a gun hidden somewhere on her person because that was the kind of women she was.

He could easily survive a shot, didn't mean it was fun, though.

"I told you I survived the crash."

Peggy took in a sharp breath, her fingers curling impatiently on the bar but she could tell he was getting ready to tell the truth so she stayed silent.

"The navy found the wreckage and rescued me--" she nodded along, accepting it to be reasonable. "Seventy years from now."

He could tell the moment it sank in, because she went completely still. Her lips parted a few times, like she was about to say something but no words came out. She eventually shut it decisively, grabbed her martini and downed it in one long chuck. She stood up, put some bills next to the empty glass, and said "Come with me." Then she promptly marched right out the door.

Steve hurriedly down the rest of his drink as well and scrambled after her red silhouette.

Peggy was setting a brisk pace through the dingy London street but he caught up to her easily enough. They stayed silent throughout the walk, and the underground ride, and then another walk. After almost half an hour of traveling, they reached a small house, tucked smack dabbed in the residential area. There were two police men at the door and they let Peggy in without a question.

The inside looked like a cozy city home, from the doorway Steve could see the living room on his right, the dining room on his left and a stair case leading upstairs. Peggy took him into the dining room, through it to the kitchen. She stopped in front of the stove to turn on all of the knobs but instead of fire coming out, the wood panel on their left let out an ominous creak and moved aside to reveal an elevator hidden behind.

So this was the SSR in London, then.

After they got in, Peggy pressed a series of numbers on the brass panel and the elevator came to life. Steve could feel them slowly descended. Only then did Peggy start talking.

"I'm taking you to my office. It's soundproof and it has actual chairs. You can tell me the rest of that story there." She turned to give him a small smirk. "I expect this to be a very long night."

Once they got out of the elevator, he was surprised to find people running around with papers, typing rapidly and talking into the telephone lines just as fast. Given the late hour, he had assumed the place would be empty. But he really should have known better, war did not rest during the night, after all.

No one paid them any mind and they reached Peggy's office without any incidence. It was a small room with brick walls on all sides, dimly lit by a tall lamp in the far corner. A wooden desk stood in the center, a plaque with the name "Ag. Margaret Carter" on top of it, and a cushioned chair on each side. Peggy leaned on her desk as he shut the door quietly behind him.

"Lock the door."

Steve did as he was told. When he turned back around, Peggy was already sitting in her chair and she motioned for him to take a seat opposite her.

Once he sat down, she immediately prompted "So you were rescued seventy years into the future?"

Steve nodded. "Yeah, they dug me out of the ice. Gave me a place in New York and loads of money. Turns out, when you are MIA you get back pay if you turn up alive later on. Even if that means seventy years later."

Peggy gave a small huff, like she found it as ridiculous as he did.

Encouraged by her reaction, he continued. "Anyway, a few bad people turned up. I wasn't lying when I said I fought them. I thought I was the weirdest thing science ever created but I was so wrong, Peggy. There are so much stuffs out there that want to destroy the world, to hurt people. I fought them as best as I could." he choked up. Saying it out loud, his life for the past decade felt so bizarre he wasn’t sure any of it was real. But just remembering the people he had lost felt like all his healed over wounds were opened anew, oozing red and raw and bloody.

Of course, it was all real. No dream or illusion could ever hurt this badly.

"So did you lose? Is that why you are coming back in time? To prevent something from happening?" She asked, like she was wondering out loud. Steve shook his head.

"Yes and no. We invented time travel to fix what we messed up. Well, a few brilliant people did, not me. But we have won now and I'm doing the cleanup basically. I just finished that, too. I came here to see you." He paused, not entirely sure how she would react to his next sentence. "I still owed you that dance."

"Oh." Peggy seemed stunned, like she wasn't expecting that answer, then she raised her eyebrows. "Have you gone back to see him yet?"

Steve was confused, then at her distressed look, realized who she was talking about.

“Bucky is alive, Peg.” he could not help but smiled at that. Bittersweet as it may be, it really was a blessing to have Bucky back. “I really wish I can tell you how, I wish we have a way to help him out sooner. But I don’t know what that will do to your future. I just...” he trailed off. Peggy seemed to know what he meant anyway. She reached out over the table and grabbed his shoulder.

“I will look out for him. If we ever cross path.”

Steve put his hand over her, squeezing it lightly. “Thank you. I can’t ask for more."

He was about to lay a kiss on her fingers when she moved to pull back.

“Well, I’m not sure how this time traveling thing of yours works, but you better head back then. I won’t keep you any longer.” She sat up straight, folding her hands on the table in front of her.

“Actually, I didn’t really plan on.... going back” He confessed, holding his breath.

“What do you mean?”

Peggy looked surprised. She squinted at him, calculating. Steve, feeling sheepish now, squirmed under her intense gaze. It gave him away. And Peggy seemed startled by the conclusion she has drawn.

“You weren’t planning on staying here, were you?”

She asked in a tone that clearly displayed she already knew the answer, but very strongly expected him to reconsider it.

“Umm.” Steve fumbled. He, like an idiot, hadn’t plan for this turn of event at all. Stupid of him, obviously. Peggy wasn’t just going to accept his laughable mockery of his younger self and welcome him back into her life without questions. Come to think of it, he wasn’t even sure he had a place in her life in the first place.

A place in her heart? Sure. They had a lot of love for each other. Been good friends with a potential for more always just hanging out of reach. But with the war ongoing and their work in different fronts and chains of command, they didn’t exactly have the time to incorporate one another into their lives, not yet. It was always a “maybe after the war, we will..”.

Steve regretted that the most.

“Oh Steve” Peggy gave him a sad smile, not pitying, but sorrowful. She looked like he was breaking her heart, and not the other way around. And Steve didn’t understand.

“I love you, Steve Rogers. And maybe in another lifetime, you will be mine. But we both know you have chosen to give your everything to someone else a long time ago.”

“Peggy—“ he tried to argue but she lifted up her right hand to cup his face.

“You could have jumped from the Valkyrie and survived the fall. I could have sent a team to pick you up. We both knew that.”

“I didn’t—“ Peggy put her thumbs over his lips, effectively shutting him up.

“But you chose to go to him, like you always did. I knew then, that the two of you would always go to each other, even in death.”

She stroked his cheek tenderly, her eyes shining with unshed tears under the amber glow of the lamp light.

He cupped her delicate hand, tilted his face to kiss her palm. She gave him a trembling smile.

“That hurt the most, actually.”

“That I didn't choose you?”

“No. That I could have saved both of you but I didn’t.”

“What do you mean?” Steve stilled, his immediate response was to reassure her that none of it was her fault, because it wasn’t. But something in her eyes made him held his tongue.

Trailing her hand down to his shoulder, Peggy took a deep breath and started speaking. “After Azzano, when we got back to London. I called James to my office.”

What?

Neither of them had told him this before. He didn’t even know Bucky and Peggy were on a first name basis with each other. Whenever one was in the room, the other tended to find an excuse to leave as soon as possible. He thought they hated each other, agonized over it, even. He wanted the two most important people in his life to get along.

Seemed like there was something more than a certain dislike, apparently.

Peggy kept her gaze fixed on his eyes, probably trying to discern his reaction. What she found must have been satisfactory; she carried on with the story.

“I was supposed to inform him of his options, basically. After Azzano, with his time as POW and his involvement in the escape, he more than qualified for an honorable discharge. He refused the offer.”

Steve was horrified. Knowing that Bucky could have gone home and be safe, spared himself the pain and suffering—

“That was why they brought me in. I was serving as the direct correspondent between the SSR and the main intelligence division in London. We thought if he wanted to continue serving his country, he could do it out of the line of fire. James spoke 4 languages, by that point. And he was the only one who had been taken to ‘the room’ and survived. We thought he could help with decryption and sorting through information involving Hydra, connected the dots of their secret project with his experience.”

That made perfect sense. Sure, Bucky was probably the greatest sniper in the alliance forces. But not many people would have had the insight of Arnim Zola’s work like he did. In fact, the more he thought about it, the more sense it made.

“He refused my proposal, too. Do you know why?”

Steve absentmindedly shook his head, still stuck on the fact that Bucky could have been spared decades of trauma, that it could have turned out differently.

“He said, and I quote, “I took my eyes off Steve Rogers for a minute and you people turned him into Captain fucking America. I ain’t letting him out of my sight.” then he excused himself."

_Sounds like Bucky_ was his first thought, followed immediately by _Jesus fucking Christ._

"His was the first name I wrote down in your unit. I knew he wouldn’t settle for anything less.”

Steve remembered then, them sitting at that bar, Bucky saying he would follow his little guy into the jaws of death. It felt like a life time ago now, but so did everything else.

He was so tired.

Peggy got up from her seat and walked around the desk to his side. He got up, too. Their height different meant she had to look up a little at him. They held each other's gaze.

“I am glad that both of you survived this war, Steve. And I assume you survived the next one, too. That you managed to find your way back to one another in circumstances beyond my wildest imagination. I will always love you. And perhaps you will always love me, too. But I knew it was never a choice to you, not really.”

She kissed him then, standing on her tiptoe, with both of her delicate hands cupping his face and his arms around her waist. Her lips soft, the perfume in her hair basking him in the moment, it was nothing at all like the kiss they shared before he got on that plane.

It was perfect.

He had no idea how long they stayed like that, just pressing their lips together, again and again until Peggy finally pulled back.

“We have had our dance, Steve. We had a wonderful night and I will remember it for a very long time. But now we both need to get back to our lives and start living in it.”

In this moment, he could almost see her; in another century, frail and gray but no less beautiful, telling him her regret, telling him to start over. He kissed her hand one last time, finally letting it go. He knew Peggy was right, like she always was. He just wasn’t ready to hear her before.

He felt ready now.

Steve stepped back, put the navigator on his left wrist and press the button to activate it. Peggy stared, wide-eyed, as the suit emerged to cover his uniform.

He said "Stark's boy" as an explanation. She shot back "Poor kid." And they both chuckled over it. Neither of them could see Howard being a good father. From what Steve knew about Tony, they weren't particularly wrong.

Steve set the date on his device and looked back up. He could not tell who moved first, but they ended up hugging for a long time, silent tears tracking down their cheeks. Neither of them wanted to let go just yet.

Eventually, he kissed her temple and whispered a soft goodbye into her hair. She squeezed him tightly once, and moved out of his arms. Steve was about to press the button when the SSR logo on the file on her desk caught his eyes and a brilliant idea struck him so suddenly he felt almost giddy with it.

“Actually, I need one more favor.”

\----

The metal platform was solid under his feet.

He turned to his right to see a pair of familiar green eyes already looking at him. Natasha raised a single eyebrow and he gave her a close lipped smile. They stepped off the platform together.

"So I see you have brought back a friend."

"Hey, Birdie." Natasha gave Sam a small nod and was soon enveloped in a strong hug.

"Thanks, man." Sam said to him, his chin still on her shoulder. Both of them were trembling slightly. He could hear a faint sniffle that he knew Nat would never admit to making for the rest of their days. God he hoped that would be a long, long time. They both deserved a happy ever after, or anything as close to that as it could get on God’s green Earth.

He nodded back and let them be. He had something better to do anyway.

Steve strode down from the platform, going straight for the most important person in his life. He wanted to pull him into his arms, to hold him close and never let go. Instead, he stopped a few feet away, unsure of Bucky’s reaction.

He looked so fragile.

His gorgeous blue-gray eyes were fixed on Steve, unblinking. His stance halfway turned to his left like he was about to walk away but was stopped short. He was still as a statue.

“Steve...?” he whispered, like a question he was afraid to ask.

"Hey, jerk." Steve felt his lips tugged into a smile.

It seemed that was all it took. The spell was broken. Bucky sucked in a deep breath, his entire posture relaxed. He turned back to face him. Steve didn’t know who went in first but between one breath and the next they were holding on to each other for dear life.

“Punk.” Bucky mumbled into his neck and just like that Steve was home.

“I thought you—“ The metal arm tightened around his waist, Steve didn’t let him finish.

“I’m with you ‘til the end of the line, remember?”

He knew it was not going to be easy. Bucky had his baggage Steve had his. The world was doomed to be in utter chaos with the other half suddenly back after 5 years. And the gaping hole Tony left would be with them for the rest of their lives. But surrounded by their friends with Bucky there in his arms---

He knew they were going to be okay.

————

Five minutes later, Steve and Bucky had disentangled. Sam and Natasha, however, had not.

Nat had her face hidden in his shoulder and Sam was laying a million kisses on her temple, whispering sweet nothings into her ears.

Steve had a nagging suspicion it had something to do with the sniffle he overheard earlier but he valued his life enough to not point it out. Next to him, Bucky was making increasingly dramatic gagging noise. Bruce had awkwardly shuffled off a few minutes ago, taking some of the equipment with him.

Steve cringed a little bit remembering that neither him nor Nat had told Bruce about her and Sam’s relationship but in their defense, between saving the universe and avenging it, they didn’t really had the time. And Bruce had never asked, so.

Eventually, when Bucky resorted to kneeling on the floor dry heaving into the grass, Steve decided he needed to put an end to it. Or maybe just get it over with so he and Bucky could leave to get started on their own cuddling session. Either way, he took out the leather bag he had been carrying on his back and unzipped it all the way to pull out the package inside.

“Hey Sam” He called out.

Sam lifted his head and glared at him, albeit a little bit tearily. “If you say ‘On your left’ I’m gonna go there and punch you in the face, Rogers.”

“Catch.” Sam reflexively threw up his left hand and caught the shield before it hit him in the head.

“Wha-? You wanna play frisbee or something?”

Steve offered a hand to Bucky, which he took to pull himself up. Bucky didn’t let it go after he stood back up and used his free left hand to brush away the dirt clinging to his jeans. Steve was focused on his incredible form, bent over to pick at the stubborn bits in his knees, so it took him a few seconds to shot back.

“Nah. You can keep it.”

Bucky was struggling to get the last tiny pieces off with his metal fingers and he turned to pout at Steve to show his annoyance about it. God, Steve was in love with an idiot.

Steve tugged his hand and started to lead them back toward the house so he could sit him down and clean it properly. Hey, he might even got him to take the jeans off in the process. He didn’t wait to hear Sam’s response.

“........Did he just make me Captain America?”

**Author's Note:**

> I started writing this a week after Endgame came out and abandoned it because I'm an INTP and that's what we do. Endgame 1 year anniversary made me sad though so I came back to finish it. Hope this brings you as much joy reading as it brings me writing it.  
> Stay strong and gorgeous SteveBuckies❤︎


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